


Tell The Truth

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s02e12 The Drop-In, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-28
Updated: 2001-01-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: PostThe Drop In. Missing schene of a conversation Sam and Toby never had.





	Tell The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Disclaimers: Not mine. I just love them, so please  
let me borrow them once in a while.  
Archive: if you ask, and keep my name with it.  
Summary: the end of the conversation Sam and Toby  
never had.  
As always, for Robyn - post yer story already! 

Tell the Truth -1/1 

Tell the Truth. 

Minutes passed in silence as Toby and Sam each sipped  
his beer. The waitress, without being called on,  
brought two more bottles and opened them near the  
table, looking in question at the two men before her,  
their faces as dark as a thundering cloud. 

"I'm going to say something now," Sam began carefully  
when the waitress left. 

"No, let me. I didn't blame you for the leadership  
breakfast." Toby put down his bottle and raised his  
eyes, sighing. 

"I didn't think you could possibly provide a reason." 

"Rather, I didn't blame you personally. I blamed  
everyone around for not being there to help me take  
the fall, and while I realize the gesture has some  
qualities analogous to reaching, it was the best I  
could come up with on short notice." 

"Well, in that case I'd like to blame you for the  
fight I had with Mallory today because I kept thinking  
about you screwing me over the whole time and she  
finds it upsetting when I don't pay attention." 

"I understand," said Toby, smiling just a little bit. 

"And you wouldn't let me go see the President." 

"No." 

Sam sat silently for a moment, words of earnestness  
caught in his throat. 

"GDC is the reason I got involved," he said finally.   
"It wasn't completely Josh's influence, you know. I  
thought if I could have some bearing on the Global  
Defense and spare the world the exacerbating effects  
of the Greenhouse Effect, my life would gain meaning." 

"It's a day-by-day fight, Sam. You can't win it, but  
you can stay in battle and not get killed." 

"How did you know the drop-in would turn out like  
this?" 

"I know the President a little. I realize you know  
him, too, but this was right in front of my eyes the  
whole time while you were too preoccupied with the  
issue." 

"And that's a bad thing?" 

"I didn't say that, Sam." 

"Didn't you? I thought your actions throughout the  
course of this day said that quite clearly." 

"Yes," agreed Toby. 

"You undermined my authority, you belittled my work,  
and you wouldn't let me talk to the President when I  
wanted an explanation - which I believe I was entitled  
to!" 

"Yes." 

"Where the hell do you get off telling me what to do?" 

"I'm your direct supervisor?" offered Toby. 

Sam took another sip of his beer. 

"I'm a better writer than you are," he said,  
swallowing nervously. 

"Yes." 

"I'm also... did you just agree with me?" 

Toby shifted in his chair. 

"You're a better writer, Sam. You are young,  
passionate, zealous, and you care about everything so  
much more than I would ever give a damn to bother.   
But I'm a better politician than you, and even that is  
only because I've been at it since before you were  
born." 

"I *am* a better writer than you are," repeated Sam  
with conviction. 

"And in time, you will be a better politician, but for  
now I'd advise you to stop taking political issues so  
personally and learn from the mistakes you make, as  
I'm learning from mine. While you need almost no help  
in writing, it might do you good to pay attention to  
the great teachers in politics you've got around you." 

"That sounds a bit patronizing, Toby." 

"Ah, Sam. The son I never paid alimony for." 

Sam chuckled. 

"Admitting I'm a better writer than you must have been  
hard." 

"You have no idea." 

"I'm also much more handsome." 

"Crossing the line there, Seaborn." 

"Wanna go ask C.J.?" 

"Only if you're in for a round of sharp female  
sarcasm. In that case I'd be happy to get Bonnie and  
Ginger to come along." 

"Hey. You're paying for my drinks, I think I've made  
my point." 

"Fair enough," Toby agreed, standing up. "Truce?" 

"Truce." Sam shook his hand willingly. "Until the  
next time I'm out of the loop." 

"It'll be a while, then. Friends tell the truth,  
remember?" 

They walked out of the mess, falling in each other's  
stride, as the day closed its eyes at the hurt and  
unfairness that was not to repeat itself.  
**************** 

Thanks for reading,  
Irene.

  


End file.
